


Of Slashed Wrists and Broken Bones

by thefrenchmistake



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Character Death, Epilepsy Warning, F/M, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Pack Feels, Season/Series 02, Season/Series 03, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:47:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22466677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefrenchmistake/pseuds/thefrenchmistake
Summary: Isaac notices her, before. Before the super strength and the sharp teeth and sharper smile, he notices dirty blonde hair falling like a constant veil hiding her face.Erica notices him. The boy with high cheekbones and a jaw she could cut her wrists on (she’d like to try, maybe it would be less painful then)
Relationships: Isaac Lahey/Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd & Derek Hale & Isaac Lahey & Erica Reyes
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Of Slashed Wrists and Broken Bones

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning for referenced domestic abuse and self-harm.  
> I've always loved this duo, far more than Boyd/Erica, so here goes nothing !  
> Hope you enjoy.

Isaac notices her, before. Before the super strength and the sharp teeth and sharper smile, he notices dirty blond hair falling like a constant veil hiding her face.

He notices the blonde girl with wrists like pieces of paper, slashed with angry, desperate red marks.

He notices the girl, and his heart aches in his chest but he’s too desperate himself to do anything about it. So he closes his locker, and walks to class.

Erica notices him. The boy with high cheekbones and a jaw she could cut her wrists on (she’d like to try, maybe it would be less painful then).

She notices the blond guy with lips pulled into a constant frown, bruises on his arms and winces in his walk.

She notices the occasional limp and the cuts he harbors on his face, some days.

But then she’s convulsing on the floor of the bathroom and choking on her own saliva and girls scream in disgust and leave her there on the dirty floor.

So she wipes the blood off her lips spilled when she bit them too hard, and goes home without a second glance. 

He bumps into her, once, and she falls on her ass like any bad cheesy movie (except she is suicidal and he can’t walk straight because his father stepped on his leg last night until the bone made a worrying sound) and looks up at him with lightning in her eyes.

“Watch where you’re going, dumbass.”

He stays astonished for a second before, against all odds, bursting out laughing.

She usually would be pissed off at how he leans on his knees, laughing his ass out, except she finds herself biting her lip to avoid smiling (that would be unworthy of her).

“I’m so sorry,” he chuckles when his laughter has died down, “I’m really sorry.”

He lends her a hand and she pushes it aside to get up and gather the little of dignity she has left.

“I’m really sorry,” he repeats, picking up her things and passing it to her so she can stuff it in her bag.

She blows on a strand of her hair and shrugs.

“Whatever.”

“You good ?”

“Yeah, if you consider death by boredom in English class good.”

“Ah,” he says, and it’s not quite a smile but there is definitely a twitch of his lips. “What happened to your arm ?” He asks abruptly, and her eyes get drawn to the red marks there.

It’s really ugly, if she’s honest with herself; it’s just mark upon mark, like wounded flesh.

It’s disgusting.

She pulls her sleeve down, rises an eyebrow and jerks her head towards his leg.

“What happened to your leg ?”

He stares at her curiously, and must see something as broken as when he looks in the mirror, because he almost smiles and says:

“Fell down the stairs.”

She gives him a look with a glint of morbid humor.

“Same.”

He nods. It’s not happy. It just is.

She nods as well, shifts on her feet and finally whirls around.

“Bye !”

And that’s it.

He shakes his head at her back, something in his lungs allowing him to breathe a little easier, the idea that maybe, against all odds, he is not alone.

But it’s not the beginning of something, nor the end of another thing.

It just is.

And then Derek happens. To her, in a hospital room she wants to die in, and to him in a fucking cemetery because why not. And fuck, those bullshitting psychologists who say accept yourself and don’t give a shit about what anyone thinks of you don’t know what it was like for them.

This, this is what she’s been waiting for. Glowing eyes and fangs and a confidence she could’ve never even dreamed of before she became more than human.

They are both so damn grateful they pledge their allegiance without a second thought. Because her wrists are spotless and his body doesn’t bruise anymore, and when Isaac smiles at her it’s a little feral but entirely honest, and she licks her lips and smiles right back, days where she fell powerless on the floor long gone.

Isaac takes her hand, sometimes, his thumb caressing the veins on her wrist back and forth unconsciously, and she kisses his cheek, hands lingering on his back and shoulders where she knows he received more punches than anywhere else.

And when he halts in front of a too narrow dark room, when he cries because he cannot breathe and he’s locked in the freezer again, she calms him down and shows him more kindness than he’s ever known (he doesn’t remember his mother).

And when she finds herself paralyzed in fear before heights, when she looks up and suddenly her knees buckle and she almost falls, he’s there to catch her and hold her trembling body in his warm hands to show her she’s just scared and not back to convulsing on a dirty floor with people stepping around her.

Maybe it’s unorthodox, maybe it’s weird, but they find they don’t give a shit.

They were never ones to get what they wanted, so now they’ll goddamn take everything.

Be it a hunt in the woods at night, running aside their pack with freedom on their heels and laughter on their lips; be it movie nights all snuggled together with Erica petting Boyd’s head when he cries before Titanic; be it them tangled in a big bed because pack is pack and the scent is always heaven when she puts her nose in Isaac’s neck and Derek cuddles her while Boyd threads his fingers through her hair.

It’s more than she’s ever had, it’s amazing and loyal and faithful and she couldn’t wish for more, except that she does.

And she gets more.

She gets Isaac pulling her in, beaming at her and kissing her like all is good in the world and she never knew shame and he was never terrified of going home. 

She gets his lips on her, indulgent and loving, and she can't help but smile; 

She gets his arm around her on movie nights, his ribs under her mouth when she kisses down his body and his labored breath when she looks up at him with a smirk. 

She gets Derek rolling his eyes at their glances thrown across the kitchen counter when they eat breakfast. She gets Boyd ruffling her hair in passing and smacking a kiss on Isaac's cheek, who protests but can't hide his smile in his bowl. 

She gets Derek painting her nails with exasperated sighs while she screams at the TV, she gets Isaac's love and Boyd's trust. It feels like she gets everything. 

She gets a family. 

When she dies, it’s not a hero’s death. It’s not glorious and it’s not beautiful, it’s simply tragic.

It’s scared and shattered and broken and full of fucking regrets, because goddamn she should’ve stayed with Isaac and made him see how loved he was and she should’ve done a lot of things differently.

There is blood in her mouth and broken ribs piercing her skin, and Boyd’s eyes are terrified as he screams at Kali to stop - but Erica knows it’s done, it’s fucking done- and she’s so scared but the universe gives her one last gift and she grasps it.

She remembers Boyd cooking in Derek’s kitchen, sending her glares when she dipped her finger in the sauce and licked it, Isaac coming from behind and pecking her lips to taste it himself.

She remembers Derek sighing and rolling his eyes like they were a pain in his ass, but the shy smile on his face telling otherwise (he lost his family a long time ago, but he’s pretty sure this is what it’s supposed to feel like). She remembers taking his hand and making him twirl to the sound of music even as he grumbled, but his hands came on her waist and made her twirl and dip and laugh like there was nothing to be afraid of.

She grasps at the memory of Isaac’s hair between her fingers, of his chuckles in her ear, of his body on hers in sheets that were cold but didn’t bother them.

She stretches her hand towards Boyd, because he is the only pack here and she doesn’t want to die without her pack.

Her hand never reaches his.

She doesn’t even hear it, just feels it tear her skin at the base of her neck and then she chokes (like she choked on the bathroom floor, like she choked in the gym) and isn’t it hilarious, how karma works ?

The funeral is a goddamn joke, and Isaac doesn’t want to stand for it so he keeps his distance and stays still under a tree.

It isn’t even raining.

The sun hits the coffin like it once hit her blonde strands and he remembers loving it so much, waking up in the morning next to a ray of sunshine, twirling it between his fingers with a smile on his face until she blinked the sleep out of her eyes and smiled back.

He shakes his head.

There is a swelling in his chest, anger and resentment and hatred at the whole fucking world and its unfairness.

Because Erica deserved better.

He did, too. They were so young. So, so young. And for once, they felt like they had a real life before them. 

Derek appears at his elbow, eternal leather jacket on his shoulder matched with a pair of sunglasses.

Erica would’ve laughed so hard.

Isaac doesn’t turn to him.

“I’m sorry.”

Isaac shakes his head, hands becoming fists in his pockets.

“It’s not your fault.” Or is it, is it ?

It probably is.

“She didn’t deserve that.”

No, no she didn’t.

“We get what we get,” he says instead, pulling away from the tree. He walks away from the coffin and doesn’t look back once.


End file.
